She thought me— filthy. Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise refresh himself. The house will be well rid of him, for a more idle, good-for-nothing reprobate never crossed its threshold. ’ ‘No, but you’ve made up for it since. "Stay!" said Jonathan, aiding his descent; "you had better take my lantern. She could even think of what had happened. He sat on the bed, throwing aside his hat.
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